Saved by a Sinner

by A G Henderson

  Carlos climbed on top of the bed, muscles tensing and flexing through his clothes as he prowled towards me. My pulse sped at his nearness, but he only laid down to my left and bent his elbow, propping his head on his clenched fist. His other hand settled between us, palm up, and close enough for it to be distracting.

  I studiously ignored it.

  In the face of everything we had already done, holding hands should've been miniscule. A foregone conclusion. It wasn't.

  I wanted to jump his bones like I couldn't believe.

  There.

  I was officially admitting it. He was a tall, gorgeous, hypnotizing man with an uncanny gift for navigating the mess that was me. Thanks to him, my sex drive was revving back to life like the engine of a Mustang. Loud and insistent. Impossible to ignore.

  Outside of divine intervention - if even that would be enough - I was going to feel his thick cock pushing sliding into me even if I had to blindfold myself to keep from freaking out.

  But my heart needed to stay right where it was, firmly inside my chest. Carlos already affected it too much with his sweet words, and actions I could only define as loving. There was a certain intimacy to holding his hand I couldn't afford to indulge. Lines got blurred that way. I needed those lines.

  Falling in love with him wasn't in the cards. It couldn't be.

  Not because our lives didn't mesh.

  Not because I was worried about him being unfaithful. Seriously, the man watched every move I made like I hung the moon.

  No. I couldn't fall in love with him because sooner or later, he’d want more. Men always did. When that day came, I wasn't going to be able to give him what Lizzy had given Tex, or what I was sure Caitlin would eventually give Creed.

  I wasn't capable of it.

  And for all my strength, I knew seeing his disappointment would suck my heart and the rest of me into a black hole I would never escape from.

  I rubbed at my chest, balling up those thoughts and throwing them out before they took over.

  If Carlos was bothered by me tuning out, he didn't show it. Not in any obvious way, at least. The careful stillness he held himself with didn't look any differently than normal, yet I could sense his emotions churning below the surface before he locked them down. One moment he looked ready to launch an inquisition to find out what I'd been thinking. The next, his gaze was cool and attentive.

  “We take out Narciso, we cut the head off the snake,” he said calmly. “The rest of the body will thrash and die beneath Rockwell’s boots, and those of his men. Without a figurehead to support the interests of the big bosses, the rest of the Cartel in the state will crumble.”

  The rising blood lust pushed my other concerns out of sight and out of mind. “When do we make this happen?” I needed to make sure my guns and knives were ready to go to work.

  “Soon.” His eyes sparkled with the promise of savagery. Now he was really talking my language. “Before Rockwell makes his move, we'll have a short window to get our part done before shit goes down and tips Narciso off.”

  “How do we get to him? I'm assuming he has his own guards?”

  Carlos nodded. “He's set up in what might as well be a fortress just outside the city limits. The place is state of the art. Motion sensors. Cameras. Speakers. For an old man, he’s taken advantage of being able to have the latest pieces of technology at his disposal. No one but myself, Manuel and Isaac are allowed inside, and he'll have at least a dozen or more of his guys on site.”

  Worry pinched my face into a frown. “Those aren't great odds. Why can't you lure him to a spot like the club from the other night?”

  “Too risky. I have this city on a tight leash, and the Vipers in my back pocket, but I can't openly move against Narciso and expect the Cartel not to turn on me. The ones who follow me do so because they recognize exactly how incompetent their would-be boss is, and because I keep their pockets lined.”

  “What's to keep them from gunning for you when the dust settles?”

  He shrugged, and I bit down on a frustrated screech. “I'm sure they'll try. They're not exactly known for accepting resignation letters. It’s a shame they'll be preoccupied with hunting down a certain fat, asshole who’ll conveniently be disappearing with a metric fuck ton of their dirty money.”

  The light bulb went off and I grinned. “Devious bastard. I'm glad you're on our side.”

  “Your side,” he corrected easily.

  I rolled my eyes, unwilling to argue the semantics or the way my heart skipped a beat or two. “Don't think I missed you glossing over what might as well be a suicide mission. The three of you can't take that on by yourselves.

  He glanced away and back. “I'm working on it.”

  For a change, I was able to read between the lines of what he was saying. “Translation: you have an idea and I'm not going to like it.”

  Or he doesn’t have an idea at all.

  Carlos walked his fingers across the sheets and settled his hand on top of my thigh. “I'm working on it,” he said again.

  Fine. Be that way. I huffed and turned away, crossing my arms over my chest.

  He squeezed my leg, bringing my attention back to him. I didn't like the neutral look on his face. Not one bit.

  “Earlier,” he said carefully. I tensed, wondering if I could throw my robe open and keep this conversation from happening. That was how bad I didn't want to talk about this. “What set you off?”

  My mouth opened on a lie.

  “Don't pretend it was nothing.” His eyes flashed ruthlessly.

  My first instinct was to snap back at him, but I quelled it. Barely. Carlos had done nothing to deserve being bitched at, no matter how much better it would make me feel. Him waiting this long to bring it up was a feat on its own.

  Unfortunately, smothering the pilot light on the anger that had leapt to the surface left me with nothing to fight off the hurt.

  God, did it hurt.

  The sneer on Tanner's face…

  Carlos growled low in his throat. “Say the word, and whoever was responsible is fucking dead and buried.”

  “You can't kill him.” He looked ready to argue the point and I continued before he could. “Not because I doubt you could do it. But because it would be a dumb idea and because I don't want you to. We're keeping the Sinners out of this, remember?”

  He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and didn't answer.

  I inwardly cursed myself for admitting it had something to do with the Sinner’s in the first place. “You're not going to let this one go so easily, are you?”

  Carlos didn't respond with guile or taunting, two things I was completely prepared for. Instead, he was bluntly honest. That quickly, the line I had drawn in the sand smudged.

  “It would mean a lot, to hear the truth about everything directly from you.”

  My heart jumped into my throat, turning my voice into a hoarse whisper. “The truth is ugly. Ugly enough that I've barely spoken for the last decade. No one’s been able to get more than a few words out of me at a time.”

  “But I did.” Not a question. Not a boast. A statement of fact.

  “You did,” I said softly. “I'm still trying to figure that out.”

  “When you figure it out, you know where I'll be.”

  “Yeah? Where's that?”

  Carlos reached across my hips and pulled me towards him, honey-caramel eyes seeing nothing but me. The sensible angel on one shoulder was screaming about lines in the sand but the devil on the other drowned her out with nothing but seductive whispers.

  Then my hands were landing on his pecs and he was tucking my head beneath his chin. His heart raced in time with mine, both of us hurtling towards something…bigger.

  “Right by your side, sweetheart. Exactly where I belong.”

  CHAPTER 15 - Carlos

  I didn’t generally have the time, nor the inclination, to murder someone with my bare hands. Blood splatter had a way of getting into the oddest of places and it made cleaning up a m
urder scene a complete pain in the ass.

  This morning, I was willing to make an exception.

  My woman was asleep in my bed. I should’ve been curled up beside her, feeling her in my arms, worshipping at the sense of completion her presence brought me. Instead, I was headed through the back entrance of a total fucking shithole at five in the morning.

  I found Raze in his office above the Viper’s bar, a cigarette dangling carelessly between his lips. “You had better have a fucking fantastic reason for calling me in here or I’m gone. You hear me? Gone.”

  He glanced up at me and I held up a hand, flashing three fingers.

  “Three words or less,” I bit out, skin crawling. That was how much I hated every second I was away from Sylvia. “Go over it though. I fucking dare you.”

  Raze flipped me the bird, cancer stick bobbing as he spoke. “Shit is fucked.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off the coming headache accompanied with being in his presence. “Eloquent as always.”

  “Christ, man. Who pissed in your oatmeal this morning?” His grin was more insufferable than usual. “That was three words exactly.”

  “Congratulations. You can count. I wasn't sure.”

  His smile didn't falter as he stood. “You done?”

  I pointed to his mouth. “Those things will kill you.”

  He took a drag and blew smoke my direction, the smell of tobacco mixing with that of stale beer and other things I didn’t care to think on too much. This office did belong to the biggest manwhore in the city. Or second biggest. Raze and Manny were in a long running competition for the title. I imagined the winner would be the one whose dick fell off first.

  “I didn’t have a choice but to indulge,” he said. A flask appeared from a drawer and he took a long sip. “I’m positive I was a pirate in a past life. Sailing the seven seas. Ripping bodices. Dipping my wick in every maiden available when I came ashore.”

  I left my woman in bed to listen to this?

  I scrubbed a hand down my face. “There’s no way in hell we’re getting into this, and I never want to hear the word bodice come out of your mouth again.”

  Raze swaggered towards me, taking another hearty chug from his flask. He stopped right in front of me, grinning madly. “Bodice.”

  I snatched the cigarette bobbing between his lips and threw it down on the carpet so I could grind it beneath my shoe. The burned spot on the floor was a definite improvement to its former state.

  He reached into his back pocket and fished out a crumpled pack. Raze turned it upside down and waited for another cigarette to fill his palm. Nothing happened. His grin slipped an inch and he held the pack up to his eye, staring inside of it.

  I clenched my teeth and remained silent. It was obvious he was fucking with me. Despite his flaws, Raze was capable enough to have passed Creed’s inspection without my assistance. Which was no easy feat. The merciless leader of the Sinners had no interest in weaklings swearing their allegiance. He would just as soon chew them up and spit them out himself.

  Raze sighed and tossed the empty pack to the floor behind him, completely ignoring the trash can sitting right beside his desk.

  Then he pulled a brand new pack out of his other pocket. He lit a fresh cigarette, and popped it into his mouth before taking a deep drag.

  Prick.

  He tapped the side of his head with his ring finger. “You know, my brain ain’t what it used to be, but I distinctly remember agreeing to look out for one Sinner. The one with a penchant for silence and sharp objects. Then, there's the info I got from Isaac that said that the other members, other than a few lackeys, were back in Oakdale. Far, far away from my precious balls.”

  “Your point?”

  “My point is I care about my balls, Carlos.” He nodded the way a monk would while delivering sage pieces of wisdom. “One day, in the distant future of course, I want to have a whole stable full of kids running around making me want to pull my goddamn hair out. I can’t get there if Creed rolls back into town and crucifies me. After cutting my balls off. Or before. Whatever way he does things.”

  I clasped my arms behind my back. “The only Sinner in the city has no interest in your balls, I can promise you that.”

  “The only one, huh?” His eyes narrowed. “Then you don’t mind explaining why Tanner the Terrible is sitting at my bar?”

  “What?” My already shitty mood deteriorated further, fragmenting around the edges.

  Raze waved his arm towards the one way window looking down onto the lower level of the bar. “See for yourself.”

  I moved towards the glass, edging around the soda cans littering the floor. The man was a complete slob. If he wasn't fucking the health inspector, this place probably would've been shut down ages ago.

  A glance down at the bar showed Raze wasn't pulling my leg for a change.

  Wobbling drunkenly on top of a stool was a man similar to my size, with an unruly mob of brown hair currently in a spectacular state of disarray. Like he'd hooked his fingers through it a thousand times. I could only make out his profile, but the high tech laptop sitting in front of him, red lights showing through the keys, was basically a stamp with his name on it.

  Tanner the Terrible. Raze was making up nicknames again but this one fit well enough. Out of all the core Sinners, he was easily the most unassuming. Even with his black, leather jacket and faded blue jeans, he looked more like he belonged on a surfboard out on the coast than the inside of a biker bar.

  But I knew good and well how deceiving appearances could be.

  His beach boy guise hid the intellect of one of the finest computer experts in the country. There were many reasons the Sinners’ rise to power had been so swift and complete. Tanner was one of them. Because with his help, Creed and the others didn't just make people disappear. They erased them completely.

  Photos. Dental records. Fingerprints. Social security. If it was stored digitally, Tanner could get to them and manipulate them in whatever way he saw fit. His little trick of sending out pictures from Hector’s demise to nearly every member of the Cartel was merely an appetizer for what he was capable of.

  I didn't give much weight to rumors. But if I did, there was an interesting one floating around about his past involvement with the CIA.

  “He's been here all night,” said Raze, ambling up beside me. “Showed up outta nowhere looking like he had just come off a bender and claimed himself a spot without a word, after sliding a black card across the bar. To be honest, I don't have a clue how the fucker is still upright. He's been drinking for hours.”

  Curious.

  “He hasn't said anything? Anything at all?”

  Raze shook his head. “Nah. Luke was behind the bar. Said he was mopey and rude, but not enough to complain about considering the giant tip he left.”

  “And the laptop?”

  “Comfort, maybe? Far as I can tell, he ain't done more than poke around on it every few minutes.”

  My focus sharpened as I slid the uneven pieces into place.

  Sylvia was stronger than she gave herself credit for, tremendously so. Her lapse of control yesterday showed that something had slipped beneath the armor she wore and hit her hard. A stranger wouldn't have been able to accomplish such a thing.

  Then, not long after, one of her brothers in arms - a man who wasn’t supposed to be in the city from what I’d gathered - showed up at a total dive and started drinking himself into a coma?

  There was no such thing as a coincidence as far as I was concerned. Life was an ever changing mechanism with a billion moving parts functioning independently of each other. But if you paid close enough attention, you could catch a glimpse of a completed revolution. See the way each part moved in sync for a brief time.

  I knew with unshakable certainty that Tanner was in some way responsible for dredging up my woman's pain. A vein thumped in my forehead, red tinting my vision. I squeezed my hands into fists so tight they shook, knuckles popping.


  “Hey, cut that shit out.” Raze nudged me with his elbow and I fought the urge to break his arm. “Did you not hear a thing I just said about wanting to keep my balls safe?”

  “What's the matter with you anyway?” he continued. “I haven't seen you this pissed in a while.”

  “Stay out of my way,” I growled, storming past him.

  I'm pretty sure I heard him speaking in baby voices to his crotch but he didn't follow and nothing else mattered.

  Almost nothing, anyway.

  As I rounded out onto the hardwood floor of the bars, my target coming into sight, I remembered that Sylvia had been reasonably specific about me not killing the culprit. I held her face in my mind while I forced deep breaths into my superheated lungs. Her trust was everything to me. Worth infinitely more than the brief, yet satisfying, completion of vengeance.

  There would always be more chances to slake my thirst for violence. But if I broke the fragile bond of her belief in me, I knew in my heart that I wouldn't get a second chance to earn it.

  Asking for forgiveness instead of permission only applied when the end result didn't shatter something impossible to mend.

  By the time I slid onto the barstool beside the Sinner, the worst of my rage had cooled into something far more manageable.

  His head swiveled towards me, glassy brown eyes half aware. “You,” Tanner slurred. He made an attempt at poking me in the chest but missed by a mile and had to correct his balance.

  “Me,” I agreed, lip curling. Sloppy drunks disgusted me. “Something I can do for you, Sinner?”

  “Yeah,” he said slowly, carefully forming the word. “You can leave my girl alone, Rico Suave.”

  My girl, instead of our girl. Drunken rambling, or more?

  “And which girl might that be?”

  “Tall. Hotter than the sun. Making a huge mistake getting involved with the likes of you.”

  Can I kill him and make it look like an accident?

  “The likes of me, huh?”

  Tanner reached for the amber filled tumbler in front of him, nearly knocking it sideways in the process.

  I sighed and grabbed it, tossing the remainder over the counter and into the sink. “You've had enough.”